Alice quite enjoyed this task, especially when Carmel wasn’t standing over her shoulder telling her she wasn’t being quick enough or constantly changing the wording she was trying to type in. Each weekend Carmel wrote the details – auction results, the number of serious bidders or visitors to inspections, and other notes onto a brochure. Then she took a photo of it with her phone and emailed it to Alice to add the information to the database. She usually sent the emails straight after each auction or open house inspection, and Alice would work her way through them first thing Monday morning. She’d thought from the beginning there must be a better, more efficient way – what did the company do before smartphones with cameras? Perhaps this was another of Carmel’s idiosyncrasies. Jen hadn’t known; it was just the way it was done. And, as Alice now knew, you didn’t question Carmel.
She turned her computer on and opened her email. She liked that Monday morning started with an easy task, and she enjoyed the routine of it. She hadn’t received any emails over the weekend, and now when she looked at her inbox she saw it was quite empty compared to the past few weeks – disconcertingly so. It was good that she didn’t have a stack of unimportant messages to wade through and prioritise, but where were the results she needed to input right away? She pressed Refresh. Everything seemed to be working, but there were still no new emails from Carmel. Oh well, she was entitled to be a bit late occasionally, no matter how out of character that would be.
By ten o’clock she still hadn’t received the images from Carmel. She was trying not to worry, instead dealing with other, less important things on her list. Unable to concentrate, she found herself re-tidying her already impeccably tidy desk in an attempt to stall what was fast becoming inevitable – contacting Carmel. Dare she call her? The thought sent a shiver up her spine. And then she relaxed slightly. Carmel’s phone was currently put through to hers, so dialling would be pointless. With shaking hands Alice constructed a quick email she hoped would appear breezy enough:
Hi Carmel,
Good morning! I hope you had a lovely weekend.
Oh, shit – do you say that to someone who works most weekends? Oh well, what else did you say when you didn’t like the person all that much but had to be polite? She swallowed back her anxiety and continued:
I’m just wondering if you can please send the weekend’s property details so I can update the database.
Thanks,
Alice.
She read it several times in an effort to delay sending it, hoping the information she needed would arrive first. From what she’d seen, Carmel would not take kindly to being prompted. Oh god. She pressed Send. At that moment her desk phone rang. Maybe that’s her now, apologising, providing an explanation. But no. It was Matt from marketing demanding to know why the results hadn’t been loaded, and ranting about needing to collate the details and get social media posts organised and loaded, or something. Alice stopped listening. She knew it was important, but didn’t need to know why. She just had to do her part in the process.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she stammered, ‘but I don’t have them yet myself.’ She cringed at knowing she was essentially putting the blame onto Carmel, who would be furious. ‘I’ll get onto it,’ she added quickly in case Matt said he’d ring Carmel himself. Alice’s heart was racing and she was beginning to sweat. There was no answer yet from her email.
‘Yes, get onto it. We needed it half an hour ago,’ Matt snapped and hung up. Alice sat staring at the phone for a moment. Oh god. She was feeling really shaky and had a headache, which she just hoped wouldn’t turn into a migraine. But then she’d at least have an excuse to go home …
Okay, focus, Alice. You need to deal with this. She could text Carmel direct, couldn’t she? Alice didn’t know for sure, but thought text messages probably still went through when the phone was diverted. She’d never had the need to divert her own mobile phone, so couldn’t be sure how it all worked. I’ll text her in ten minutes if I still haven’t had a response from the email, Alice decided.
She went and got a cup of tea and when she returned to her desk she quickly checked her email for a message. She even went all the way back through to Friday’s messages in case she’d missed the information somehow – or anything else. Unfortunately she hadn’t. Nothing. Damn it. Damn you, Carmel! She took a deep breath and dialled Carmel’s number in case she was taking calls again – there was no way of knowing beyond Carmel telling her, which she never did – and held her breath. She let out a gasp of both relief and fury when her own voice came on the line asking the caller to leave a message. She was just putting the phone down again when it rang. God, what was it with shaking fingers these days?
‘This is Carmel Gold’s office, Alice speaking. How may I help you?’
‘Hi, Alice. This is Catherine Watson. I’m not sure if you can help me. It’s my settlement day and Carmel was meant to meet me here at the property on Malvern Road, Toorak, at nine o’clock this morning to hand over the keys, but she hasn’t arrived. I’m here to move in. I’ve got two removal trucks waiting to unload and I can’t even get in. I don’t know what to do,’ she said, sounding as stressed as Alice felt.
‘Oh no,’ Alice said. ‘I’m so sorry. I’ll just put you on hold and see what I can find out.’
‘Thanks.’
Alice sat staring at the phone with the blinking light indicating the call was on hold while wondering what to do. Where the bloody hell was Carmel? God, I hope nothing has happened to her, she thought in the next breath. Perhaps she was sick or injured – too sick or injured to call, to get to her phone. Alice didn’t have Carmel’s home address – only knew which street and suburb she lived in. She pictured her own recent moving day. God, that had been stressful enough and everything had gone smoothly. Poor Catherine. What can I do? She nibbled on her bottom lip. She knew all the keys were kept at reception, with Bianca the custodian in charge of keeping them safe and handing them out when necessary. Dare I leave the office? Alice didn’t have a car. Also, Carmel might have the keys with her and just be running a bit late. But it was ten-thirty – handovers were always right on nine, or, sometimes even eight-thirty.
Alice tried to walk quickly out to reception, but broke into a run. She was a little breathless and had to force herself not to drum her fingers on the desk while she waited for Bianca to finish her call.
‘Alice, what’s up?’ Bianca said.
‘Bianca, sorry to bother you, but do you have the keys to the Malvern Road property purchased by Catherine Watson?’ She tried to sound authoritative instead of unsure and terrified. She’d never been asked to get keys before and didn’t know if only the agents were allowed access to them.
‘Sure. Hang on a sec. I’ll check,’ she said, tapping on her keyboard. ‘Yep, it looks like they should still be here.’ Alice almost let out a loud breath when Bianca said, ‘I’ll just get them.’
It was probably only a few seconds before Bianca returned from behind a partition to hand Alice a blue tag with three keys attached, but to Alice it felt like an hour had passed while her headache hammered painfully at her temples. She quickly checked the address, surname and date.
‘That’s the one, thanks.’
‘Just sign this.’ Bianca placed a clipboard on the counter and handed her a pen. ‘You look like you’re in a hurry. Run, I’ll fill out the details.’
‘Thank you so much, Bianca, you’re a lifesaver,’ Alice said, and bolted back to her desk, thinking as she went she needed to get a bit fitter.
She took back the call. ‘Hi, Catherine? It’s Alice back again. I’m so sorry to keep you waiting. I have the keys here in my hand and I’m going to bring them to you myself. Right now.’
‘Oh, Alice, that would be fantastic. Thank you so much.’
Alice sensed the woman was almost in tears. ‘I’m really sorry again for the delay. I’ll be there as soon as I possibly can.’ Alice shoved the keys in her trouser pocket, grabbed her phone and handbag and raced back out to reception.
&nb
sp; ‘I’ll be back soon,’ Alice said to Bianca.
‘Hey, Alice,’ Bianca called while Alice was waiting impatiently for the lift. Shit! What now? I’m in a huge rush.
‘Yes?’ she said, turning back around.
‘You’re not doing a handover of keys to the homeowner, are you?’ she asked.
Er, no. Shit. ‘Um. Yes. Carmel didn’t turn up and the poor woman is stuck there with removalists getting shirty,’ Alice hurriedly explained.
‘Well, you’ll need one of these. It isn’t cold, but it’s better than nothing,’ Bianca said, holding up a bottle of champagne – the standard company gift to new homeowners on their move-in day.
‘You’re awesome, Bianca. What would I do without you?’ Alice said, striding across the space and grabbing the bottle just as the lift arrived.
On the ride down Alice hoped she’d find a cab at the taxi rank. Please let there be one there – and available. Please let me be doing the right thing.
She was in luck. A taxi was pulling in just as she got there. She quickly gave the address to the driver and sat back and quelled the urge to tell him to drive faster. Thankfully the morning peak had ended and the traffic was quite light. In twenty minutes she was asking the driver to wait while she leapt out of the car and ran up the path where she could see someone sitting on the step. The woman jumped up.
‘Alice?’ she asked.
‘Yes. Catherine?’
‘Yes. Oh, thank god.’
‘Here are the keys,’ Alice said, handing them over.
‘Thanks, I’m just going to check they work while you’re here,’ she said, going and unlocking the door. ‘Brilliant!’
‘And this is to celebrate your new home,’ Alice said, passing her the bottle of room-temperature champagne. ‘Congratulations. May you spend many wonderful years here.’
‘Thank you so much. You’re an absolute lifesaver.’ Suddenly Alice was being pulled into a hug.
‘I really appreciate you doing this.’
‘It’s my pleasure,’ Alice said brightly. ‘And, again, I’m so, so sorry about the delay. I’m not sure what happened.’
‘Well, no one died. I’m really sorry about my frantic call. I’m a bit stressed, as you can probably tell.’
‘It’s okay. I completely understand. I moved recently myself. Well, I’d better let you get on with it.’
‘Thanks again so much,’ Catherine said, giving Alice another quick hug.
Alice got back in the taxi and wondered how she’d get reimbursed. Who did she need to give her expenses claim to? She dreaded asking Carmel. Was this something covered in the company handbook and Jen’s notes? Carmel still hadn’t reimbursed her for the shoe repair. Oh god. Alice felt a wave of exhaustion mixed with nausea come over her. And her headache was starting to get really bad. She searched her handbag for paracetamol and found some, but then realised she’d come out without her bottle of water.
Walking back into the office, she felt good about having sorted out the keys. Catherine’s reaction told her she’d definitely done the right thing. Keeping clients happy was what the company was all about, wasn’t it?
‘Okay?’ Bianca mouthed from behind the reception desk where she was on the phone. Alice gave her a thumbs up and a smile and Bianca responded with a thumbs up of her own.
She sat back down at her desk and took a moment to congratulate herself. But then she saw her office phone message bank light was blinking. The first was a message from Matt demanding again to know where the data was. If he was offhand and rude last time, now he was positively filthy. Shit! She quickly checked her inbox. No answer from Carmel. God, she hadn’t sent the text. Alice couldn’t put it off any longer. But would she reply? Just then the phone rang in her hand again. She answered it and hadn’t got through her spiel when Carmel’s icy, sugary voice asked, ‘Alice, why am I getting text messages from Matt in marketing telling me our figures are late?’
‘Um. I’m really sorry, Carmel.’ Why am I apologising? ‘But I don’t have the information to put into the database.’ Her heart was threatening to burst through her ribs.
‘Everything you need is on your desk, Alice. I suggest you open your eyes.’
‘But, where? You always email …’
‘On the USB stick right in front of you. For god’s sake, Alice.’ And then Alice saw the USB stick. ‘Okay, thanks, got it.’
‘Next time open your bloody eyes, Alice. I shouldn’t have to be doing your job for you.’
‘Oh, Carmel, before you go, Catherine Watson called and …’
But Carmel was gone. Alice’s face was flaming and her eyes were prickling with the beginning of tears. She picked up the USB stick. How had she missed it sitting right there in front of her keyboard? I’m losing my mind. I really am. God, Carmel’s going to kill me next time she sees me.
Chapter Fifteen
‘Alice, a word please,’ Carmel said, suddenly appearing beside Alice’s work area. Alice tried not to look as startled as she felt. She was doing nothing wrong – just dealing with emails. ‘Now, please.’ Alice got up, finding as she did her legs felt like jelly. She tried not to sigh out loud. This was clearly not a conversation for the ears of the others working around her. Alice followed meekly behind Carmel, feeling like a naughty school child being walked down to see the principal. She wasn’t as worried as she might have been. Carmel was probably about to thank her profusely for her quick thinking in dealing with the Catherine Watson keys situation two hours earlier. Of course Carmel wouldn’t want to admit in public she’d stuffed up.
‘Sit,’ Carmel commanded as she closed the door to the small conference room with a solid metallic click. Alice sat with folded hands on the table in front of her and smiled at Carmel.
‘What do you think you were doing undermining me in front of a client?’
Alice’s smile faded away and her face fell.
Sorry? When? How? What have I done? She was genuinely baffled. Why couldn’t the woman communicate clearly?
‘The Watson woman,’ Carmel continued. ‘This morning. How dare you leave the office! What were you thinking?’
‘Um, that I was taking her the keys to her house, which she was meant to receive over an hour and a half before then?’ Alice said, haltingly. Seriously, I’m in trouble for this?
‘Don’t you talk down to me. How embarrassing do you think it was to hear you’d gone behind my back and welcomed someone to their new property – the property I sold them? Just who do you think you are? You’re my assistant, Alice, you are not an agent with this firm. And at this rate you never will be!’
‘But, I thought …’ The fog was still not clearing for Alice.
‘That’s your problem. You don’t think. Or when you do, you do the wrong thing. God, what is wrong with you? Little Miss Unhelpful, more like it,’ she added with a sneer.
Alice could see Carmel was in such a state there was no point defending herself. Is the woman actually insane or are we talking about something else that I don’t have a clue about? Oh god, I’m so confused. She stayed silent in case she incurred more of Carmel’s wrath and was fired on the spot.
‘And how dare you drag Bianca in reception into it, place her job in jeopardy?’
Alice’s face was bright red and her neck was now catching up. She bit her lip as she felt it begin to tremble. Her chin quivered.
‘I’m really sorry, Carmel,’ she muttered, her voice choking.
‘Don’t you dare cry, Alice!’
And then Alice was shocked and dismayed to feel, in one fluid movement, her throat tighten, her chin wobble and tears burst from her eyes and trickle down her face.
She couldn’t stop the tears and anguish she’d been forcing back these past few weeks. Completely mortified, she sniffled and then openly sobbed. She just couldn’t make herself stop. And then she became breathless and close to hyperventilating. She couldn’t look at Carmel and tried desperately to get her breathing under control.
‘Jesus, Alice! You�
�re pathetic. Pull yourself together. And don’t involve yourself in things above your pay grade or undermine me again. Got it?’
Alice could only nod.
‘Now clean yourself up and get back to work.’ And with a whoosh of air and waft of heavy perfume, the smell of which at that moment Alice positively loathed, Carmel left the room, closing the door with a much louder clunk behind her than when they’d come in.
Gradually Alice’s tears stopped and her breathing steadied. Oh my god, how embarrassing! But I didn’t get fired, did I? She sat there for a few moments trying to compose herself and figure out what had just happened. She went back over the conversation, well, rant, but was still none the wiser. Alice was genuinely mystified. Carmel had definitely been talking about Catherine Watson and Malvern Road because she’d said so. And she’d mentioned Alice leaving the office. But what did I do wrong? Well, other than leaving the office. She knew that had been a risk.
Jesus, you bitch. I bloody made you look good and spared you an irate client. What’s your fucking problem? I showed some initiative – your favourite bloody word – and you put me down. Jesus. What do I have to do?
A Life of Her Own Page 12